


Light the Night

by EzraTheBlue



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Canon Disabled Character, Established Relationship, Fluff, Jack-o'-lanterns, M/M, Post-Canon, Promnis Holiday Exchange 2020 (Final Fantasy XV), rated for innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28703808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraTheBlue/pseuds/EzraTheBlue
Summary: As the dawn has returned and the seasons begin to change again, Prompto and Ignis decide to liven up their peaceful existence in the aftermath of their journey by bringing back an autumn tradition in a new way.Or, Prompto and Ignis carve a jack-o-lantern together.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	Light the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alina0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alina0/gifts).



> Written for Alina0 for the Promnis Holiday Exchange 2020! I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> Special thanks to [Callie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfMarbule) for beta reading! Any remaining mistakes are mine.

**Light the Night**

Fall came in stiff and cold, and Prompto watched through the café window as the crisp golden leaves blew by, dancing down the newly paved street. Their little respite in New Insomnia had borne witness to three autumns since the sun had risen again, but it still thrilled Prompto to watch it happen every time after ten years without. 

“I used to think I’d be nervous about the longer nights,” he remarked to Ignis as he wiped down the tables. Ignis was busy refilling the bronze carafe behind the counter from a filtered pitcher, feeling the side of the tank to trace the water level, but still gave Prompto an acknowledging hum. The sunset light reflected off of his visor, and Prompto found himself briefly caught on the warmth of the domestic scene.

After Insomnia’s revival and reconstruction, and after Ignis had helped set up the new government, Ignis had retired from public life. The two of them had opened the coffee shop near the outskirts of the new city - which, given how construction was going, would someday be closer to the center of town than the edges - so they could keep themselves busy and happy, Prompto content to talk to people all day while Ignis made pastries and drinks. Ignis was still somewhat on-call for the new council and parliament, but he got those calls less and less as the months marched by. Prompto could finally admit that he was relaxing again; never quite letting his guard down, but accepting that the worst was over, that he might not have to kill anything to survive ever again. It was a simple life, and after everything they’d gone through, it was all the two of them could hope for. 

“Are you?” Ignis’ brow took the slightest furrow - mild consternation. After more than ten years of being in love with the man, Prompto had come to be able to read his face as easily as a children’s book, every twitch of his eyebrows and quirk of his lips speaking volumes. 

“I’m not.” Prompto grinned, knowing that, likewise, after more than ten years together, Ignis could hear his expression in his voice. “Actually, it reminds me that the darkness is over, because the year is going through its old cycles. The days get shorter in fall so they can get longer in the spring, and we have seasons again. It’s a relief.”

Ignis’ expression relaxed, and he sighed as he descended from the stepladder to access the carafe. “Yes, I must say I concur. We lost a great deal in the darkness.” Stretching his arms, Ignis sauntered to the window and stood beside Prompto. “The seasons, and we all somewhat forgot the holidays and seasonal celebrations - I believe I neglected to celebrate my own birthday a few times, as I forgot it was February.”

“I never forgot,” Prompto reminded him, leaning his shoulder against Ignis’ chest. Ignis bumped his chest with a little sway. 

“You forgot your own.” He smirked, that notch on his lip pulling on his skin. Prompto turned and kissed him on the cheek, then on that notch. 

“You remembered.” With that, he spun back around to the window. “We ought’a celebrate, too.”

“We have been, darling.” Ignis slid his arm around Prompto’s back, the wind blustering against the windowpane and a chill emanating from the glass. “We put up an altar for Crystalmas, gave presents for Shiva’s Exchange, and we’ve done the traditional celebrations to each of the Six. Did you have something else in mind?”

“Well, Hollow’s Eve is coming!” Prompto snapped his fingers. “We should carve a pumpkin to put out in front of the shop, to light the night!”

Ignis hummed, chin drooping. “Ah, I do recall those. I believe the practice was forbidden during the dark years to ensure the pumpkins could be eaten.”

“Yeah, but farming’s been going great!” Prompto spun towards Ignis, heart light, bouncing on his heels. “Surely they could spare a pumpkin or two.”

“I suppose you could carve one, if you’d like.” Ignis smiled wryly, but Prompto caught the wrinkle in his brow. 

“Is… is something the matter with that?”

“Not at all, darling.” Ignis leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, but there was still a furrow in his forehead. “Only, I’m not at all certain how much help I’ll be.”

Prompto caught what Ignis hadn’t said. “Oh. Aw, babe.” He cupped Ignis’ cheek, the base of his palm brushing the edge of his visor. “You know what? We can still make this work. We’ll carve a pumpkin together.” 

Ignis smiled and bowed his forehead to Prompto’s. “I suppose we can try.” 

Prompto could still sense Ignis’ trepidation even with his permission. That just meant it was on him to show Ignis a good time. 

* * *

The next day, after the coffee shop had closed for the evening, Prompto went to the farmer’s market a few streets away and bought the biggest pumpkin he could find. It was about as big as a large helium balloon, heavy and thick-skinned. He bustled back into the shop just as Ignis finished dusting the crumbs out of the pastry case, hauling the pumpkin in both arms. 

“I’m back!” Ignis likely knew it was him by the beat of his feet on the tile, but he liked announcing himself. Old habits died hard. “Come check this baby out, this’ll really brighten up the darker days!”

Chuckling, Ignis brushed his hands off on his shop apron and circled out from the counter to meet Prompto at the door, then took the pumpkin from his arms. “My goodness, this is heavy! You carried this all the way here?”

“Hey, I still got guns. We’re on target, baby.” Prompto put the pumpkin on one of the café tables and flexed, and Ignis knowingly gave his forearm a squeeze.

“Locked and loaded, you are. Come, I’ll pour us a nip of something nice and then we can get down to business.”

Somehow, Ignis had put together a crock of hot toddy behind Prompto’s back, bubbling away in the café kitchen, and Ignis brought the both of them mugs full of piping-hot, golden brew. Prompto laid down some old newspapers on one of the tables and gathered the requisite tools - a permanent marker, a serrated carving knife, a few spoons for scooping the pulp out, a big bowl to catch the guts, and a rag for cleaning off the knives and their hands. Ignis set the mugs down on the next table over, and sat on a stool beside Prompto.

“Are we ready?”

“I believe so!” Prompto grinned and took Ignis’ hands. “I’ll guide you, okay?” He kissed Ignis’ palms, then picked up the marker. “I’ll draw the face, but you tell me what to do! What kind of face do you like?” 

“Ah.” Ignis’ cheeks took a bit of color. “I suppose I hadn’t thought… well, let’s keep it simple and cheerful. Perhaps some triangle eyes, and a big crescent smile with some spiky teeth.”

“Can do!” Prompto popped the cap on the marker and studied the pumpkin, estimating the right size and how to space the eyes, and Ignis hummed in thought.

“Make certain the smile is very big. Like yours.”

Prompto laughed. “I’m a photographer, not a portrait artist! But I’ll see what I can do.” 

He drew two upside-down triangles, the marker squeaking against the pumpkin’s skin, and a great big crescent with a few jagged teeth on the top. He hoped it would be what Ignis was expecting when all was said and done.

Then, he stood behind Ignis and turned the pumpkin towards him. “Okay, so we’re gonna cut the top off so we can get the guts out. I’ll guide your hand, okay?”

Ignis nodded, and Prompto took this as permission to take his hand and put the knife in it. Ignis chopped vegetables and fruit for the cafe’s food daily, and his cuts were as neat and perfect as they’d been when he’d been sighted. This was different. The knife’s grip fell neatly into Ignis’ palm, and he exhaled slowly. Prompto guided his hand to the top of the pumpkin, and the two of them drove the knife in with a satisfying _thunk._ Prompto guided him in carving the pumpkin, turning the pumpkin with one hand and pulling it in a slow circle around the stump of the stem.

“We gotta remember to put a little notch in it, okay?” Prompto pulled the knife out and guided Ignis’ hand to turn it, making a triangular notch in the lid. 

“Ah,” Ignis realized, brow raising. “So you can position the lid on the pumpkin more easily. Clever.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s one idea!” Prompto chuckled and leaned around to Ignis’ ear: “But it’s mostly ‘cause the notch is my favorite part.” He kissed the little notch in Ignis’ lip again, and Ignis chuckled, pink coloring his cheeks. 

With the pumpkin opened, Ignis and Prompto each took up a spoon and rolled their sleeves, and pulled all of the seeds and pulp out. It was vigorous work, but they managed to hollow out the pumpkin and scraped down the walls. Ignis made certain to separate out the seeds from the pulp and rinsed them off to blanch and roast later, as Prompto put the rest in their compost heap behind the shop. The autumn air caught in his hair, and Prompto breathed it in deep.

He could scent the crisp fall leaves, the faintest hint of a winter’s chill, and under it, the vegetal, earthy aroma of pumpkin still on his hands. 

After a nice sip from his hot toddy - strong, well-spiced, and sweeter than honey - Prompto settled down with Ignis with the knife again. “We’re going to start with the eyes. Each line of the triangle is about two inches, okay? We’ll carve a line, turn the knife, and carve again.”

“Very well then.” Ignis’ knuckles tightened, scarred skin pulling just a little, and he put his hand in Prompto’s again.

Prompto helped him push the knife in, and held the pumpkin steady. He guided Ignis in carving the lines of each eye, in and out and again, until they reached the end of each line, and then Prompto gently twisted Ignis’ wrist to the right angle and pushed the knife back in. Ignis was intently focused, tongue _just_ poking out between his teeth, and Prompto had to withhold his delight at just how serious Ignis was taking it for fear of jostling either of their hands. “You’re doing great,” he said softly, seriously instead. They reached the end of the first triangle, and Prompto moved Ignis’ hand to poke the center of the cut-out piece and pulled it out of the new hole. “It looks perfect!”

Ignis was smiling, satisfied and pleased. It was everything Prompto had hoped for. 

They carved the other eye with the same care, poking it out afterward. Prompto kissed Ignis’ knuckles before releasing his hand to clear away a little extra pulp from the outside of the pumpkin. “That’s the eyes, babe! Let’s give ‘em that nice, big smile.” 

This would be more challenging. Carving a curve on a pumpkin wasn’t exactly easy on a good day, since knives were better for straight lines, but Prompto was determined. 

“We’re going to start on the right corner,” Prompto told him as he turned the pumpkin, rolling it to an easier angle to access, then got behind Ignis again, his chest to his back. “And then, we’re going to do the top, with the jagged teeth. Trust me, okay?”

“Always, love.” Ignis found the knife on the table and took it in hand, and Prompto reached from behind him and put his hand over his. 

Prompto pressed the knife in Ignis’ hand to the point of the smile, and carefully guided him in carving down the curve, inch by precarious inch. Prompto stopped and turned the pumpkin just a little every fraction of an inch. Progress was slow, and Prompto could feel a little tension in his shoulders. Then, he noticed Ignis biting his lip.

“We’re doing great,” he told him, soothing against the shell of his ear. Ignis’ good eye slid shut, and he exhaled, the tension seeping out of him as their hands slid in sync. “We’re just taking it slow. We’ve got all the time in the world, remember?”

They reached the end of the bottom curve, and Ignis put the knife down to give his hand a break. “Forgive me; I’m not used to holding the knife at odd angles for such a long time,” he explained as he flexed his hand, then took a swig from his hot toddy. Prompto just chuckled as he mopped the wet pumpkin off of his hand and drank his own drink. 

It was just so nice, so domestic. Prompto had dreamed of moments like this for years.

“One more good cut, and we’ll be done.” 

Prompto rolled the pumpkin back to start at the same right corner - Ignis was ambidextrous with his daggers, yes, but this was a little more complicated than just slicing up an Imp. Ignis sat and readied the knife, extending his arm just a little, and Prompto cupped his hand like he was accepting Ignis’ invitation to a waltz. Instead, Prompto held the knife again and guided it back to the top, then plunged it into the pumpkin’s flesh one last time. “Perfect,” Prompto murmured as he pulled Ignis’ hand along the upper curve, a gentler angle then the lower curve but still a challenge. “Up and down, in and out-”

“Later, darling,” Ignis replied with a devilish little smirk, and Prompto had to dam back a big, rolling laugh.

“No, no, don’t make me mess it up, we’re so close!” 

Ignis chuckled and leaned his shoulders back into Prompto’s chest. “Of course not, my darling. Let’s finish the job properly.”

Prompto had to strain not to laugh again, holding Ignis’ hand nice and tight.

They carved each pointy fang out by turning the knife, pushing it in, and sawing back and forth to create the angle, then matching on the other side and continuing on. “You’re doing perfectly,” he told him as they rounded the curve to the other corner. “Almost-” The knife popped through the last little measure of the pumpkin’s body, and Prompto plucked out the negative chunk of mouth, leaving a gaping grin. “That’ll do it!” He let go of Ignis’ hand only long enough to turn the pumpkin back upright, and as Ignis set the knife aside and cleaned the little flecks of mess from his hand, Prompto wiped down the surface of the pumpkin.

The pumpkin grinned back at him, triangle eyes dark and yet mischievous, its huge crescent grin and little pointy teeth charming and coy. He chuckled, and took Ignis’ hand again. “Okay, let me show you how you did!”

He stroked the center of Ignis’ hand, beckoning him to open his fingers, and Ignis flattened his hand so Prompto could press it over the pumpkin’s surface. Ignis was silent, reverent, as Prompto guided him to feel the sharp lines of the pumpkin’s eyes and the triangular hollows, then the wide crescent of the mouth. His smile pulled at the corners of his eyes, soft and genuine, and Prompto felt glee like a bubble in his chest, making him feel just as happy. 

“Isn’t that amazing? We did it! It’s going to be so cute sitting out in front of the shop!”

“I concur.” Ignis dried his hands off, then turned and faced Prompto, blinded eye looking through him as it ever did. Then, his work-weathered hand extended towards Prompto's cheek, and Prompto leaned in, expecting to be drawn in for a kiss. Instead, Ignis cupped his jawline, then smoothed the pads of his fingers across Prompto’s brow and over his mouth. Prompto grinned, and Ignis smiled in return.

“There it is. That’s the smile I was looking for.” He rose from his stool, bringing himself chest-to-chest with Prompto, facing him with his blank eye meeting Prompto’s. “That’s what brightens up my darker days.”

“Iggy.” Prompto’s cheeks felt warm - how could Ignis still make him blush so easily even after all this time? - but he tipped his mouth up towards Ignis’, and Ignis wrapped his arms around his waist and drew him into a deep kiss.

Each twist of their lips together, each tentative probe of tongue and teeth, each were an exploration of a familiar path, a journey already taken, and sweeter for it all. When Ignis released Prompto from their embrace for a breath, he was still smiling, his heart light.

“Come on, babe.” Prompto took and squeezed Ignis’ hands, getting on tiptoe to put his mouth a little closer to Ignis’. “You really wanna see me happy?”

Ignis laughed, and put his arm around Prompto’s to continue the festivities of the night.

* * *

The next night, Prompto ran to the market as Ignis finished with their last customers for the evening. When he jogged back, a bagful of fresh vegetables and cut flowers in hand, he noticed that the pumpkin was set up on a stool outside the shop, a candle set inside. The pumpkin’s smile lit up the ground and glowed bright in the sunset’s splendor. Prompto stopped and stared, taken by the sight - how long had it been since they’d celebrated Hollow’s Eve? How long had it been since he’d seen a carved pumpkin?

He stood, possessed by the sight of it. The golden leaves blew down the road, crisp and musky. There was a faint vegetal scent in the air, hinted with little wisps of smoke off of the candle. Prompto found himself lost, standing there between memories of before and the living moment, ensnared by that same sweet fragrance of autumns that had once vanished, back and golden like sunrise. 

“Nostalgic, isn’t it?” 

Prompto jumped, and he didn’t have to look to see Ignis there, though he turned to face him. Ignis was waiting in the door, still wearing his sugar-dusted, coffee-scented apron, and a warm, inviting smile. 

“Yeah, it really is.” Prompto smiled, and Ignis stepped down to join him. He held his hands out - not touching the pumpkin’s face anymore, but instead feeling its radiant warmth.

“Tell me,” he said softly, “is it brightening the night?”

Prompto nodded, and closed one hand around Ignis’. “Golden and beautiful. We really made it happen.”

The light caught in the hollows under Ignis’ eyes, the old scars on his face and in the curve of his smile. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s everything I could have asked for.” 

Ignis’ eyes pulled into crows’ feet. “Next year, we’ll have to do something a little more complicated.”

“I’d love that.” Prompto squeezed his eyes shut and his fingers tightened around Ignis’, and he reveled in the warmth of Ignis’ hand and the pumpkin’s glow.

It was a simple pleasure, and yet, it was more than Prompto could have dreamed of during those dark years. Now, it was theirs, and all Prompto could hope for was to keep it and enjoy it. His twine of Ignis’ fingers with his own was a promise that they would.


End file.
